


never had much faith (in love or miracles)

by tanyart



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 18:53:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11629755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanyart/pseuds/tanyart
Summary: There are different ways to say it, and different ways to show it.





	never had much faith (in love or miracles)

Jesse wakes up with a jolt, mind foggy with sleep, and it takes a moment to register Genji’s mouth trailing along his jaw, his roving hands over his body.  It would have been a nice surprise, but Jesse checks the time, finds that it has only been thirty minutes since he’s last looked at the clock, and so he puts his palm over Genji’s face. **  
**

“What? _What?_ ” Jesse mumbles, still groggy.  “Oh, hun, no.  I need a break.  Half a day to recover, at least—” which is technically a very generous offer.  At this moment, Jesse thinks he can be done for the entire week.  Granted, he might change his mind in twenty-four hours because it’s Genji, but right now Jesse is feeling shaky and loose limbed and ready to sleep for a year.  

Genji kisses him again, long and slow.  Just the way he likes it.  Jesse enjoys it for five seconds before he attempts to shove Genji off.

“You and your cyborg stamina can go to hell,” he says crossly when it doesn’t work.

Genji doesn’t roll off, but he does back away, easing up to perch on Jesse’s hips.  He balances most of his weight on his heels, thank god.

“Well, even if I _hadn’t_  been a cyborg-” Genji begins, grinning.

“Oh, and then what,” Jesse says, scooting away.  “You’d go a mere ten rounds in one night instead of twenty?”  

He rolls on his stomach and feebly tries to crawl back to the bed.  They are on the  _floor_.  He had passed out  _on the floor_. Because apparently the bed wasn’t big enough, or some such nonsensical reason Jesse can’t seem to recall for the life of him.

“You flatter me.” Genji laughs as Jesse’s legs slide out from under him.  His hands drift down to Jesse’s calves, massaging the sore muscles.  Teasing them.  Jesse weakly kicks him away.

“That  _wasn’t_  a compliment,” he says, not trusting Genji at all. Not trusting  _himself_  at all. “Well. Kind of.  I’m sure you impress a lot of gals and guys with that, but you don’t gotta impress me.  There are other ways.  Like letting me  _sleep_  for a full night.”

In a miraculous show of fortitude and strength, Jesse makes it to the bed, grabbing onto the sheets before he lets go with a groan.  He shuts his eyes.  It becomes very apparent why they had decided to abandon the bed and use the floor.  He slides back down, pressing his forehead to the rug.  It’s not the most dignified position, but neither had this been a very dignified kind of night.

The ensuing silence tells Jesse that he’s blindly hit a nail on the head with a sensitive subject.  He glances at Genji, and Genji is still grinning at him, playful, but he’s a got a stiffness to his posture that suggests something awkward and miscalculated.

“Is that all?” Genji says, voice low and smooth.  He slinks closer to Jesse, sitting up and resting his back against the bed, and bumps his knee against Jesse’s cheek until Jesse lifts his head to rest it on Genji’s thigh.  He lowers his head, fingers tucking the disheveled strands of Jesse’s hair behind his ear.  “Tell me more about these other ways.”

For all of Genji’s sensuous movements and coy words, it sounds like he’s rallying.  Jesse shifts, letting his eyes slip shut.  He is tired and his mind is a jumbled mess of half-formed thoughts, but he laughs, sleepy and subdued.  Genji’s got a lethal arsenal of a million charming lines and a thousand more wicked ways in bed—and maybe Jesse is starting to know the reason why he insists on showing his feelings the way he does.

“Genji, you exhaust me,” Jesse says, lifting his hand, fingertips to Genji’s cheek. “And you really don’t have to.”

Genji frowns.  Jesse can feel it against his palm.  He brushes his thumb against the corner of Genji’s mouth in a gentle attempt to turn it, and he is glad when Genji doesn’t slyly press his teeth against the skin or chase after it with a playful nip.  There’s no heat in the gesture, no sense of desperation or wild spark of fervor.

It’s quiet—it’s soft and it’s sound.  The clock ticks.  Jesse takes Genji’s hand and puts his lips to the metal wrist.    

“It’s not that I don’t enjoy the other things,” Jesse murmurs into the steel joints and circuitry.  Genji’s fingers twitch, nervous livewire beneath his jaw.  “You know I do.”

He risks opening his eyes to stare up at Genji. They don’t talk about this; they circle around it and show it in different ways but Jesse is beginning to think he needs to make it clear to them both, even if Genji does his damn best to avoid it. Even now, Genji is completely still and silent, looking back down at Jesse with an unguarded expression, with none of his usual smirk or crooked curve of a half-grin.  Jesse thinks Genji might not be breathing, and so he decides to take the quieter confession.  He smiles beneath Genji’s palm, unseen.

“Here is enough, don’t you think?”

Genji doesn’t answer, but the color rises to his face and he opens his mouth, soundless, before he simply gives up and leans forward, mouthing  _yes_  just for Jesse to see, and no one else to hear. 


End file.
